


Where The Wolves Howl

by JosivChrisma



Series: The Violet Raven And The White Wolf [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 00:07:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosivChrisma/pseuds/JosivChrisma
Summary: A pack of wolves and a sorceress re-unite in Kaer Morhen.





	Where The Wolves Howl

**Author's Note:**

> Garlet loves to take the piss out of anything and everyone. Yennefer swoons heavily at her dork-of-a lover. Papa Vesimir drinks tea not booze. Eskel and Lambert just want to get drunk. GOOD TIMES!!

After a week of travelling from Velen by ways of her trusty Roach; Garlet found herself back in Kaer Morhen.

The fortress had seen better days. Sadly now, its touch of homeliness diminishes along with its crumbling infrastructure and the only thing keeping it intact is the presence of familiar faces. Even still, Garlet considers the place her true home and hopes that one day she can restore it to its former glory.

Convincing the Bloody Baron to let her leave with Uma was an effortless task. Which came as no surprise considering the favors Garlet had poured out for him over the past months. It was more or less a debt paid after he barely bat an eyelid at her request. Although in some sense, he owed the witcheress more than he could ever offer.

The most gruelling task still to come - subjecting Uma to the trial of grasses - a delicate procedure due to the possibility that this thing was a cursed Ciri.

Funnily enough, a few wolves were set on downing drinks before morning - for old times sake. A small reunion in the midst, now that everyone had gathered for a brief but well-needed catch up.

"See you've already started without me lads!" Garlet bellowed upon entering the main hall, as she released the body harness from her shoulders, feeling the weight of silver and steel leave her. She felt strange without her weapons but the scene in front of her came as a welcoming relief from being on the path for months on end.

"Come, Garlet, sit your witcher ass down and drink with us!" Eskel beckoned from the table. A half consumed bottle of Kaedwenian Stout in front of him; one hand occupied with a mug of Sodden mead. As typical as he was, always mixing drinks.

Garlet was greeted by the eager faces of her witcher brothers. Lambert had a clean mug at the ready while Eskel poured mead into it.

Vesemir on the other hand, sat on the far end of the table with a cup of freshly brewed tea, sipping and nodding in disapproval from time to time. However the sight of his progeny brought a tight grin to his lips. There was no doubt the witcheress was his most valued student. She had become more like a daughter to him throughout her years residing and training at Kaer Morhen.

"Papa Vesimir! Fancy seeing you here with us thirsty wolves. I trust the boys brewed your tea to your liking? If not, your welcome to a dose of the good stuff," Garlet says, eye-ing up the mug of mead with her name on it.

A disgruntled sound comes out of Vesemir's mouth, "I've trained them well, and you know how I feel about that filth you all like to consume," he responded. The eldest living witcher had sworn off alcohol a long time ago. In his youth he had seen many days being under its influence. Now in his platinum years, he prefers the soothing qualities of a good cup of tea over the coarseness of alcohol.

"Very well, but it's much better than the vile shit we witchers have to drink from time to time."

Both Lambert and Eskel raised their mugs to this, spilling some alcohol along the way. Vesimir smiled into his mug, vapor spreading across his seasoned features. Her audacious nature always seemed to lighten his heart - one quality that set her apart from everyone else.

Then out of nowhere, Yennefer materialised and Garlet's entire being reacted instinctively to her sudden appearance. "Oh my, your tongue still remains as sharp as your sword, witcheress." Yennefer stated with debilitating eyes of violet.

The sorceress, dressed in her usual dark and alluring attire made herself comfortable opposite the two witchers, who swallowed at her presence.

Their was an unusual tension amongst the crew now that Yeneffer had decided to join them. Nevertheless the boys acknowledged her. Out of fear or respect, or both, it was hard to tell. Then again, the sorceress had this effect on almost everyone that crossed paths with her.

"A good evening to you too, Yen. Glad you could join us." Garlet nods in her direction, a lilt in her raspy voice accompanied by an increasing heart beat. Another instinctive reaction to her presence.

Before taking a seat, Garlet detoured to a nearby cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine, something expensive and suitable for the sorceress. She could feel Yennefer's eyes on her like they had never left in the first place.

"Is that?..." The sorceress asked out of curiosity, her interest peaked at the sight of a golden-labelled bottle.

"Castel de Neuf. Picked up a few bottles from Gors Velen. Molnar insisted I shouldn't leave empty-handed. Besides, I couldn't have you drinking anything but fine wine." Garlet replies with a smirk, finally sitting herself down next to Yennefer only to meet her heavy gaze. She spots a warmth in her otherwise cool eyes - more present than the burning fires and candles providing a source of heat and light for their evening.

"You know me too well. If I could curtsy, I would." Yennefer tucks a fist of slender fingers under her jutting jaw.  
  
"Hmm...I know you well enough to know that you never curtsy - to anyone for that matter." Garlet responds mockingly while the look in Yennefer's eyes grows warmer and sincere; appreciative of the thoughtful gesture.

"I'm afraid our wine glasses have dwindled over the years, in fact, I believe I've smashed them all. May I offer you a drink from our infamous mugs instead?” Garlet pops the cork and catches the pungent fumes of well-balanced red wine with a sensitive nose.

The witcheress along with her pack of wolves were known to be a little rough around the edges, so the knowledge of smashed glasses came as no surprise to Yennefer. "I won't object. However, I do hope you are not planning to inebriate yourselves into a state." Yennefer averts those piercing eyes on the other witchers who are gulping away happily. "I trust you will all be fit enough to give your utmost focus for what is to conspire come dawn?"

Yennefer's ill-received concern for their intoxication were for good reasons. She's witnessed their antics on a number of occasions, here and abroad. At least one of them ends up in a mangled heap on the ground, and at most, all of them end up immobile and nursing hangovers that could make death seem more welcoming.

None of them were showing the slightest hint of equal concern, although Eskel and Lambert looked as if they just received a subtle scolding. The only one who dared to protest was of course, her lover.  

"Oh come on, Yen. We're aware of what's at stake here. Its been a while since us wolves have been under the same roof again - may as well make the most of it." Garlet reassures the sorceress, while pouring the red velvet-like wine into an empty mug.

"I'll drink to that!" Lambert shoots a mug into the air again, while Yennefer just rolls her eyes at all of them. Garlet injects the air with her own mug; slow as not to spill a drop; careful as not to ruin any of Yennefer's garments.

"I'll take your word for it, Garlet. Although the truth of such words remain to be seen - boys." The sorceress narrows her eyes at the pair of witchers, before taking a sip from her own mug, savoring the familiar qualities of her wine.

"You lot, don't stay up too long, you'll be no use to us hungover." Vesimir finished up the last of his tea and bade everyone good night. As much as he wanted to stay up and listen to them exchange stories, there was much to be done in preparation for tomorrow's project.

There was an evident tension between his former students and the sorceress, but knowing Garlet, she would disperse it in no time. The sorceress came across as brash and bossy at times but Vesemir was thankful she was there to keep their minds focused on the morning's task. The raven-haired woman nods to him as he leaves while the other wolves wish him a goodnight's rest.

"So, sis, you've been on the path for months now. There's bound to be some stories you're dying to tell us?" Eskel asks in anticipation.

"Only a handful of adventures and misadventures from the only white wolf of the continent," Garlet replies eagerly.

"Well, don't deprive us any longer, do tell," Yennefer insists. Her fingers lace themselves around the witcheress' hand under the table. Garlet responds with a gentle squeeze, while Yennefer rubs over the subtle callouses from years of wielding swords.

"Three crones of Crookback Bog, you say? Holy shit, made my skin crawl, they all wanted to jump my bones ... more repulsed than flattered. Damn painted portrait of three women had me convinced they were passable, fuck was I wrong!"

"So you're saying that if they turned out to be a trio of beautiful witches, then you'd be flattered?" Lambert questions, slurping away at his mug of ale. "You trying to earn me a walloping? Umm ... no comment." Garlet avoids the obvious answer altogether, considering the presence of her lover, achingly giving her a side glance.

"Flattered or not, I would happily pay those filthy crones an unexpected visit." The sorceress openly admits, her protective side making a subtle appearance.

Yennefer hadn't planned on staying with the party but the way in which Garlet told her stories accompanied by her contagious enthusiasm was something even she couldn't resist. Her mug still half filled with red wine as her mind settled on one thing; the woman beside her who had them in fits of laughter in no time.

"Ever seen a tree with a beating heart? I've seen things, but that? Believe it or not we talked ... yes, verbally, how else? Turned out to be a spirit. Everyone knows I'm fond of trees so it was hard putting this one down."

"You sure you didn't imagine the whole thing? I have a hard time picturing all this." Eskel says, slightly bewildered. 

"I wasn't delirious, if that's what you're thinking. You want proof, brother? I'll take you there myself." 

Garlet spoke of adventures that saw her traversing the continent and isles, all in hopes of finding their adoptive daughter, Ciri. For some silly reason the most trying part for Yennefer was attempting to tear her eyes away from this creature. Not caring that the other two witchers noticed the change in her instantly. She almost forgot there was an audience. At one point, all she could focus on was Garlet's inviting lips.

"The most unusual? Easy, back in Novigrad. Wrote a script for a play; guest starred in the play; convinced myself and others to stick to my day job, it was hardly a standing ovation. I'm sure the whole crowd praised my acting in fear ... 'clap and smile just in case the witcheress has us for dinner'. People forget that I have the hearing of a bat."

"You what?" Yennefer's eyebrows furled in disbelief. "Wait until our Ciri hears about that. Her witcheress mother partaking in a play? I half-regret leaving you to scour Novigrad on your own, darling."

"I half-regret telling everyone this story. Shit, glad none of you were there to ridicule me. Just thinking about it makes me cringe in my boots." Garlet shuddered, re-living the embarrassing mission.

The more she revealed, the faster the alcohol seemed to be kicking in, especially for the boys, who were struggling to pace themselves at this rate.

"There was this one loon, Ronvid I think his name was. Kept wanting to challenge me to a bout. First time I let him have it, parried like a wimp, kicked him to the ground, introduced him to the tip of my sword. Next thing I know he's crying and begging me to stop. Second time, brings a shield, like that's going to make a difference."

Eskel and Lambert were surprised to see the sorceress smiling and chortling to herself without causing too much attention. It was the usual effect the witcheress had on her, without a fail. The sorceress who's mood changed like the wind and who's wit snapped like a winter's chill. It seemed the only person who could tame her strait-laced self was Garlet - it was obvious to everyone who witnessed the pair of them together.

"Third time around, brought along two foolish thugs, delusion worked a charm, all unworthy for a glimpse of my steel."

"Poor fellow didn't stand a chance against you, I almost pity him. Uncanny, that he managed to stage three encounters. That, or you were the subject of a stalker, " Yennefer interposed, clutching Garlet's hand tighter than before.

"You worried, Yen?" The sorceress barely had any time to react before Garlet continued, "Don't be. His jawline matched his blunt sword. Even if he was handsome, his own damn lunacy would've marred it to pieces."

Yennefer's lips curled up at Garlet, fighting the urge to plant a kiss on her lips in front of the others. Not regretting her decision of joining them now that she was more engrossed in something that didn't resemble a dusty old hardcover. The joys of having a court jester doubling as a witcheress, one that could almost match Dandelion's story-telling and poetic finesse, however with more cussing and less eloquence.

"As long as the bouts didn't take place in bed, I'll consider myself content." Yennefer poked her own fun at the subject. Garlet planted a chaste kiss on her head, the sensation of it lingering long after it had disappeared.

Eskel was cackling away, signs he was nearing his alcohol-intake limits. "Shit, I can just imagine it. You, barely swinging your steel, probably with your eyes closed, yawning at this dick head with a death wish, and pissing yourself laughing the whole time." He laughed, slamming a fist down on to the wooden table, while everyone held their mugs tightly.

Funnily enough that's exactly what Garlet did the moment she was rudely approached by the man, right up until their third meeting. "Someone had to teach him a bloody lesson and I'd rather it be me than some ruthless bandits out looking for trouble." Garlet grins into her almost empty mug. Sighing at the taste of sweetly seasoned mead.

"That almost makes you sound like you have a heart in there somewhere," Lambert points to an area around Garlet's chest, "You god damn soft cock!" Lambert exclaims with pure amusement.

The boys usually had their courtesies in-check while the sorceress was around but the alcohol along with Garlet's manner of story-telling had loosened them up to the point they were treating Yennefer like one them. Surly, obnoxious with a mouth full of dirt.

"With all due respect we all know that if I had one, it would be bigger than both of yours combined!" The witcheress raises a mug to her own claim, a wide grin plastered across her face.

"Wait, what are we talking about here, hearts or cocks?" Eskel asks, scratching his head in jest.

Both men erupted in laughter while Yeneffer nudged the young woman lightly with her elbow as she struggled to keep the wine inside her mouth before swallowing it. Then she says something out of the ordinary. "You'd be more proficient at wielding it too, undoubtedly." Yennefer took a long sip from her mug, now noticing the table had fallen silent.

Garlet could barely contain herself, while Eskel and Lambert looked dumbstruck at the sorceress for executing a primed joke. All of them ended up in fits of laughter, even the sorceress couldn't manage to keep a straight face any longer. Her high cheekbones ached wonderfully although her lips remained pursed.

"Typical of you to ask about ole Blondie Metz. Don't worry Lambert, she's on her way here. You two will be fucking inside a bubble in no time. Oh will you look at that! I made you blush didn't I?"

Eskel slapped a heavy hand against Lambert's back, while Garlet and Yennefer sniggered at the two of them.

“I’m sensing a trend here. I mean, what is it with witchers and sorceresses eloping these days? Is there something you’re not telling us, Yen? Some sort of spell to lure us in? Ouch ... I deserved that. Eskel, brother, think it’s time you jumped on the wagon with us! Phillipa’s single, good thing she won’t be able to see that pretty face of yours.”

Eskel clutched at his stomach, guffawing. Then Lambert goes and asks something that makes him keel over in stitches. "Phillipa Eilhart? Thought she preferred melons over sausages?”

“Not sure if she still practices lesbomancy, nevertheless, just wear one of Yen’s dresses and bind some rolled up socks to your chest, I’m sure she won’t know the difference,” Garlet replies.

“Be careful, Polly will have your eyes for that, darling." Yennefer tilted her mug; the last drops of fine wine lathering her tongue. "And don't encourage him, last time you three were drunk, my dresses were ruined."

"Well, it's a good thing you can enchant your needles to do all the work for you, Yen." Earning Garlet a gentle hum and a firm hand caressing her thigh. The simple gestures brought her senses to life, and her instincts kicked in as soon the sorceress turned, violet eyes half-lidded. Which only meant one thing, she wanted time alone.

The witcheress was in no position to turn down such a worthy offer, especially with those piercing, violet eyes, rendering herself powerless.

"I think I'll call it a night boys. Big day tomorrow and Yennefer's due for her beauty sleep. Not that she needs it." Garlet earns herself a hard squeeze on the thigh, urging for them to depart, Yennefer's patience waning by the second.

"What? The night is till young and we've barely made it through the first cask!" Eskel's eyebrows sew themselves together in disappointment. An obvious slur in tow.

"We'll save it for another night, you have my word brothers." Garlet places a hand on her chest in avowance and drinks the remainder of her mead.

"Fine, but we're not drunk enough to not notice the way you two've been ogling at each other all night. Can't blame you's though, barely had enough time to catch up until now. But we're taking you up on that offer sooner rather than later." Lambert implores, slightly swaying in his chair.

"That's entireIy Yen's fault and I promise we'll get shit-faced soon and proper."

"Goodnight love doves!" Eskel raises his mug, Lambert mirrors him. Garlet notices the slight tremble in both their voices and their mugs, secretly hoping the pair would soon call it a night. Yennefer must have sensed something because she's on their case once again, even after the entertainment they had all endured.

"Don't even think about mixing a Gauntlet, Lambert. We need you both at your sharpest. Although it pains me to admit, this little congregation was somewhat ... enjoyable." Yennefer turns on the spot, dark hair fluttering behind her. Garlet's being tugged by her bicep, while the two witcher's exchange cheeky, suggestive looks with her. Lambert even goes as far as kissing the back of his hand, performing a perfect impression of how Garlet and Yennefer showed affection.

When they round the corner, just out of air-shot, Yennefer pins herself against Garlet in one swift movement. "I'm surprised you wanted to leave so early, what with all the tales you had to tell." Secretly chuffed that her ploy to tear her lover away from the others had worked.

"That was your doing, Yen. One endearing touch and I'm done for. It doesn't help that you've been staring at me longingly, throughout the night. Not that I'm complaining." 

"Was I that painfully obvious? Well, I'm complaining because I had to refrain from pouncing on you. So, I'm afraid I couldn't wait to get you alone any longer." Her hands trailing across the weathered leather and chain mail of Garlet's witcher armor while amber, slitted eyes glowed brilliantly in the absence of flames and candle light.

"Damn I've missed you." Garlet declares, catching her lover's kiss when it comes, mead and wine on their tongues. Yennefer pulls away gently, sweet, heated breath tickling her lips. "I've missed you too, my darling." 

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a bit of fun I had to write after enduring a shitty week at work. Thanks for reading!


End file.
